


Uncharted Territory

by alones



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, F/M, First Meetings, Painter Teresa Agnes, Plot Twists, Strangers, Tension, injured minho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25398415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alones/pseuds/alones
Summary: Minho finds himself in a tough situation after running away from a group of criminals.
Relationships: Teresa Agnes/Minho (Maze Runner)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Uncharted Territory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NekoAliceYamiYaoi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAliceYamiYaoi/gifts).



> Listen.. I honestly don’t know where the heck this idea came from? *laughs* I really don’t. All I know is that my brain kept yelling at me to write this so here it is! I obviously did it for a reason???
> 
> For one of my longtime mutuals who's become ill. I hope you make a speedy recovery my friend! Sending thoughts and prayers to you and your family! Xx

Minho had been running for what felt like hours, never slowing down. It frustrated him to see that the original plans didn’t fall through, that he would wind up being the mouse instead of the cat. His best friend had lied to him, manipulated him, and now he’s running god knows where so that _they_ wouldn’t beat him to a bloody pulp. Their angered voices intensified just as Minho spotted a casement window, using his upper body strength, quickly scaling up. He swore underneath his breath and sweat trickled down his face as he attempted to get the window open.

By luck, it opens. The Asian silently slipped inside, closing the window to duck down just in time as the group of dangerous criminals ran past, asking of his current whereabouts. Wiping the sweat off of his brow, Minho then stills, sensing he’s not entirely alone. His eyes darted to the woman who had just walked in, holding a water-filled red solo cup in one hand and paintbrushes in the other. Pale skin. Blue eyes. Short, dark brown wavy hair.

No doubt about it. She was the owner of this loft.

He remained perfectly still, observing the woman’s movements as she moved about, unaware of his presence. In the still, dark room Minho held his breath, looking to see what she would do next. To Minho’s surprise, the woman begins to walk over to where he’s currently sitting. He clamped a hand over his mouth. A whiff of fresh blood entered the Asian’s nostrils, making his stomach recoil. He resisted the urge to cough, holding it in.

Unable to deal with the choice of smelling his own blood, Minho drops his right hand. The corners of his mouth were stained with red. A wave of nausea hit. This is bad. Very bad.

“I should go,” he muttered, slowly standing up. That’s when the light flickered on and the woman—Teresa Agnes—spots him. In an instant Minho had her cornered and pinned to the wall. When she opened her mouth to let out a scream, he put an index finger to his lips indicating silence. “Don’t scream. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

“Who are you?” Teresa asked, her eyes never leaving his.

“Someone who needs help,” he says as of it’s the simplest solution in the world.

Teresa snorted. “Why would I help someone like you? You really think I’d trust you that easily?”

“I know you have every right to not trust me right now, but I promise that I won’t hurt you, okay? I just need you to do one favor for me.” Minho said. “Two, actually. I need you to tend my wound and to allow me to stay here for a night.”

“I won’t agree to any of this until you tell me who you are.”

He’s trying not to give himself away, not wanting to entangle her in his complicated web, but he sees no other choice. His eyes shift away. They refocus on Teresa’s icy, blue ones and he sees an uncertainty in them that mirrors his own.

“Minho,” he says quietly, noticing Teresa’s firm expression soften. She takes a moment to herself as if the name itself seemed oddly familiar to her. “What’s your name?”

“Teresa,” she replied, sighing softly. “Now that we’ve introduced ourselves would you mind telling me what brought you here to my apartment?”

“A gang,” he answered. “They’re called the Black Hawk Ravens. Some men jumped me, and I managed to get away before they could do any real damage.”

“That explains it.” Teresa’s lips were pursed together, and she didn’t respond to him after that. She simply brushed him aside, walking forward, placing the cup she’d been holding down near her workstation before glancing over her shoulder. “How badly are you hurt, Minho?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Minho asked. In response, Teresa grabs his hand and pulls him back towards her bathroom, where she flipped the switch. Minho winces slightly, and then he’s quietly being examined. Teresa muttered something underneath her breath. “Why couldn’t we just do this outside your bedroom?”

“I didn’t want to wake my dog,” says Teresa, “It’s bad enough you’re already like this but imagine what would’ve happened if Riley actually saw you.”

He didn’t want to argue there.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. No, seriously,” she counters, pulling back and beginning to tend to the wounds on his bled right hand. Wince. “I should’ve called the cops by now.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Exactly,” she growled, carefully wrapping his hand in gauze. “If I hadn’t known your identity then yes, I would have. Besides, you’re already in enough trouble as it is.”

“Yeah trust me, I know.”

“Blood.” Teresa notes, noticing the corners of his mouth. Minho’s eyes dart down. “It’s from your hand, isn’t it? Here let me.”

He quietly watches as Teresa wipes off the fresh blood, noticing how close they were. After it’s gone, she takes a step back, taking a moment to clear her own throat. “You’ve said it yourself that it’s not safe for you to go back out there. So, you can stay for a night, but I’d like for you to be gone by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” he says with a nod, following behind her. Teresa places a finger to her lips, shushing him as they move around her still sound asleep Pomeranian. Once the two are far away, Teresa opens the closet down the hall, grabbing a pillow and blanket. Minho accepted it. “Where will I be sleeping?”

“Living room couch.”

They begin to slowly make their way there.

It felt strange to him, being aided by the most popular girl in high school. Despite other people’s opinions of her, Teresa was really down to earth and unconditionally loyal. God. He really was an idiot. He dragged her into this mess and she’s letting him.

“Let me know if that wound of yours reopens so that I can re bandage it.”

“Okay.” He leaves their brief conversation at that, but then something continually wrestles at his brain, soon calling after Teresa before she can actually leave him.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“Okay.” she says, walking over and flipping off the switch. “Sleep well.”

He’s left alone. Minho’s eyes linger up at the ceiling. In her bedroom, Teresa picks up where she left off painting, only for her hand to tremble slightly. The brush barely scraps the canvas. His eyes close and he drifts off.

Minho couldn’t sleep. He continually tossed and turned into the couch. Frustrated, his eyes open and he silently looks up at the ceiling. Then he slowly thinks back to the first time he stepped into Mr. Henderson’s science class. The first time he met Teresa Agnes.

_“Class, we have a new student joining us today.” Science teacher, Mr. Henderson announced Monday afternoon, putting his current lecture on hold. Noticing how nervous he was, Mr. Henderson kindly ushered the person forward and looked upon the sea of students. Clearly a transfer student given his appearance. “Everyone, this is Minho Park and he’ll be a part of the Seaside High Family for the next two years. It’s best that we all make him feel welcome.”_

_Unlike the other students that came before him, Mr. Henderson didn’t pressure Minho into talking, instead instructing him to sit behind Teresa Agnes. Many girls sent daggers her way. Mr. Henderson continues on with his lecture. Noticing Minho didn’t have a textbook to look at, Teresa grabs an extra one from underneath her desk. He looked up at Teresa, who had turned around and was currently holding the textbook to him._

_“Don’t worry Mr. Henderson only does lectures,” Teresa whispers, so low, that only Minho can hear her. “You’re welcome to take notes if you’d like. Do you have loose leaf paper or a pencil? I can hand you one.”_

_“No, I don’t,” he answered her, and Teresa began searching. “You’re being awfully nice.”_

_“Why? Is that a bad thing?”_

_“No. It’s just I haven’t received proper kindness in a while.”_

_“Well, consider today your lucky day, Park.” Teresa hands Minho some sheets of paper and pencil. He says, ‘thank you’ to her and she recites with ‘you're welcome’. She turns back to face the board, beginning to take notes on today’s lesson, aware of every single girl’s death glare sent her way. It takes him a while to actually look up at the board himself, too busy smiling at Teresa to notice. He eventually writes himself._

His eyes flash open. He needed to tell her the truth.

Pulling back the blanket, Minho sits upright and walks into the darkened living room before silently walking into Teresa’s bedroom. She’s in the middle of painting when she spots him. She walks over. “Hey, does it need re bandaging? Give me one second and I’ll—” He grabs ahold of her hand, stopping her.

“Listen, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me even though it was under different circumstances. But I can’t stay here any longer.” He confessed. “I saw the way you looked at me when I told you who I was because I knew that deep down you knew, Teresa. I know you’re the same senior who takes Mr. Henderson’s class.”

“Minho?” she calls out, testing it out on her tongue. “As in Minho Park Minho? Leader of the Black Hawk Ravens?”

He nodded. “Teresa, listen…”

“To think for one second, I actually trusted you. I believed your story only for you only for you to stab me in the back! What else were you lying about, huh?”

“It’s best if I go.” He turns to leave, but Teresa places a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back.

“No, you’re not leaving! Not until you give me a proper explaina—” Teresa’s warning is silencing by Minho’s lips pressing against hers. She hits his chest repeatedly, until her body relaxes, melting against him. They pull away and Minho cupped her face. “The one thing that I didn’t lie about Teresa is that I loved you since the moment you lent me that textbook. Please, you have to believe me, _please_.”

“I don’t know if I can.” That confirmation broke him.

“I have to go,” he says again, slowly walking from her and over to the window he came from. She doesn’t protest. She doesn’t stop him. She doesn’t say that _they’ll_ only chase him down or worse. “This never happened.”

And with that he was gone. Two years from now Teresa would look back on this and wonder why she didn’t stop Minho. And he would wonder the same.


End file.
